The Soul Switch
by SugarIcing
Summary: Summary: Severus Snape has an accident in the potions classroom right before classes start in Harry Potter’s sixth year, and an unfortunate house elf is hit. Thankfully, Severus is okay…but…the house elf has a predicament. It’s soul is residing inside of
1. Chapter 1

_Summary: Severus Snape has an accident in the potions classroom right before classes start in Harry Potter's sixth year, and an unfortunate house elf is hit. Thankfully, Severus is okay…but…the house elf has a predicament. It's soul is residing inside of a patch of mold, and someone else's soul is residing in her body. Not a typical self-insertion, NOT a Mary-Sue. Please R&R!!!_

**T**o say Professor Severus Snape was angry was a complete and utter understatement. Only an idiot would cheerfully address the livid man who stalked through the halls of Hogwarts with the disposition of a bloodthirsty bat. He gave the impression that he wasn't quite cheerful this morning, to say the least. Professor Flitwick shuffled past, giving Severus a wide berth and the former professor scuttled away fearfully, glancing over his shoulder with eyes as wide as saucers. And one would think he'd be used to it.

Severus barged into the staff room, slamming the doors open with a pompous air not to be ignored. Striding in, he let his onyx eyes sweep the room in one quick glance. All the professors were drinking tea (and coffee), preparing themselves for the night to come. Professor Minerva McGonagall looked sad, as if she were awaiting horrid news about someone's death. Professor Susan Sprout was sipping her tea and looking blankly at nothing. Or she found the crack on the wall an intellectual challenge that could not be ignored. Assorted other professors were still asleep, as they were not preparing for new students arriving into their houses.

Storming to the counter with ever-full coffee pots and teapots and ever-overflowing biscuit trays, Severus grabbed a large black mug and poured liberal amounts of the black, caffeinated liquid into it. Obviously, Severus Snape, the black-bat-who-resides-in-the-dungeons, enjoyed things black. Especially his coffee, which he downed; the coffee mug was charmed to make his coffee the correct temperature, which came in handy awfully often since the other professors had given the order for all coffee and tea to be scalding hot. Severus was not that kind of a person. He was a patient man, of course, but there was no time for waiting for the tea to cool! Caffeine _now_. He. Must. Have. Caffeine.

Only the Slytherins were aware of his caffeine dependency, and a few of the professors. The 'striding-through-the-school-like-a-bloodthirsty-bat-awake-at-ungodly-hours' occurrence only happened in ungodly hours in the morning, and any student stupid enough to wake up at five in the morning and storm through the school (actual breakfast was gradually lain out at six, all food laid out at exactly seven o'clock) was obviously completely unaware of the unspoken rule: 'The school belongs to the professors all the time, but even more so before the hour of six AM and after the hour of ten PM.'

Today was September first, and all the children would be arriving soon, young and old, to torture-no, _learn_, from the professors. Severus felt his mood darken considerably with that thought. The absolute _last _thing he needed was some idiot child to be sorted into his house, and thus become his to take care of and keep happy. Happy. He scoffed, then remembered that he was drinking coffee and choked. He winced, realizing some of the liquid had made a leap up his hooked nose. Snarling, in severe discomfort, the now more livid professor stormed out of the staff room after re-filling his mug. It was going to be a _long _day.

Severus stirred the potion smoothly, glaring into it's murky depths. Why him. Why. Him. His personal pity parties always happened after something bad happened, whether it was a year ago or ten seconds ago. In this case, it was twelve years ago when he first agreed to teach potions. What sort of idiot was he, accepting that job? All it had done for him was give him eternal misery.

Why, ever since Harry Potter came to school his life became so much more complicated and Severus was still wondering if all the misery was necessary! In his first year, Potter had managed to screw up the evidence and come up with a completely juvenile theory; that _he _was after the Philosopher's Stone. Him? Severus Snape? Why, as a young boy he wanted to die young since he considered getting old a chore. He felt his lip curl. He was foolish, then.

In Potter's second year he managed to kill a basilisk, destroy Tom Riddle and his diary, completely erase Lockhart's memory and as such rendering him stupider than usual and in St. Mungo's, and free the Malfoy's house elf. Such a thing should have been considered impossible, but it was possible, and it peeved Severus to no end.

For a few weeks after school let out, Severus had been sure that things would be back to normal. But then Sirius Black, his school nemesis (one of them, really), escaped from Azkaban and decided to hunt Harry Potter down and kill him. Of course, Harry stopped this from happening and unearthed the truth; Sirius Black was innocent and Peter Pettigrew was alive and guilty. Again, Severus was peeved. He couldn't hate Black properly now, now that he _wasn't_ working for Voldemort. He was tempted to go cross-eyed and stick his tongue out at imaginary Black, but he didn't. He just continued reminiscing.

In the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Make-Severus-Snape's-Life-Miserable's fourth year, he had amazingly become the fourth contender in the Tri-Wizard tournament (note: Tri means three), won it, helped bring Voldemort back to life no matter how unwilling the boy was, and then manage to escape the Dark Lord and bring back the dead body of Cedric Diggory. Now the Dark Lord was back everyone was uptight and jumpy, even Severus since he had to go back to playing double agent. Not a pleasant job.

Then _fifth year_ (When would he just _go away_?!) Harry managed to create a Defense Association behind the High Inquisitor's back (remind you of the Spanish Inquisition, anyone?), get roped into believing his Godfather, Black, was in trouble, and then sneak into the Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries and live to tell the tale. And not only did he sneak _in_, he snuck _away_ from ten or more Death Eaters and confirmed to the idiotic Ministry that Voldemort _was_ back and there was nothing they could do about it. The next death the Boy-Who-Lived witnessed was his Godfather's. Severus could only feel a little sad.

Obviously, this boy had managed to turn every single school year into a mess involving some murderer or another. The Aurors had rescued Potter from his abusive relatives after a week of him being there. Obviously, they were livid about Dudley from the previous year and overworked and underfed him. "He was practically a skeleton, Severus!" shrieked Molly Weasley, when Severus refused to show sympathy. Potter was still in shock and depressed about Sirius' death, and Severus heard the boy sobbing randomly during the night, or screaming from nightmares. He had started to make his reports during the day, so he didn't have to hear it.

Suddenly, the Dark Mark on his left forearm seared uncomfortably. Severus grunted, accidentally knocking a vial of something powdery into the potion. He didn't notice, and he walked up the stairs to the second floor balcony. Grabbing his Nimbus-2000 from where it rested on the wall, he took off from the balcony and flew out of the Apparition wards. The burning was becoming stronger, and he barely held back a snarl of pain.

He arrived at the boundary. Placing his broom on the ground Severus took three steps forward, clutching his arm, and Apparated. He appeared to the left of a masked Death Eater. Voldemort had specifically asked Severus _not_ to wear a mask so Big Bad could better read his facial expressions (tough luck). Sneering, Severus lifted his hooked nose a bit and looked down at the newer Death Eaters. They were masked; some of the more experienced ones were not, as it was old news that they were Death Eaters. Voldemort was sitting in an onyx throne, and his gray scaly skin shimmered in the candlelight. Ruby-red snake eyes glared at everyone in the room.

"Lucius. Come forth."

Lucius did. '_Brown noser,'_ thought Severus. "My Lord," said Lucius, bowing reverently and kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes. The owner of the robes smirked a bit, then said in a high, breathy voice that reminded Severus of a Muggle actress…what was her name…Mary Monloe? Marilin? Onerow? Whatever.

"Severus. Come forth."

Severus coaxed his face into an impassionate mask. He strode forward without flinching, meeting Voldemort's eyes briefly, then going to one knee and lightly touching his lips to the Dark Lord's expensive emerald-green velvet robes. He got up, and stood next to Lucius. "My Lord," he said, keeping his eyes trained on the arm of Voldemort's throne.

"Lucius. How is the recruiting coming?"

Lucius grinned widely, and said confidently "We'll have twenty before the end of September. Draco is very influential when he wants to be."

The Dark Lord looked pleased, but you could never be sure. "Good, good. Severus. I need you to brew me a potion with Potter's blood. He's gotten stronger at Occlumency, and it's making me angry. Perhaps another dose of his blood will strengthen our connection?"

Severus nodded, looking up at the Dark Lord's face. "It will take two months to brew."

Voldemort shrugged. "As long as it's ready before December. December is my unlucky month."

Severus didn't question him. Sometimes, he thought that Voldemort was more loony than their own loopy Headmaster.

"Severus, you may leave. It is late, and you have only one hour to prepare for your students." The entire sentence was said so condescendingly Severus figured if it were any more so he'd turn into a three-year-old right then and there. Bowing, Severus said softly "Yes, My Lord."

With a hand wave of dismissal, Voldemort turned back to Lucius and said quietly, "We will have enough for the attack in January?"

Lucius nodded. "We will. More than enough, My Lord."

Severus Disapparated.

He flew (on the Nimbus, you idiots) inside of his office just in time to see his potion flash blindingly and explode. Habitually, Severus created a shield around himself. Obviously, the house elf cleaning the desks wasn't so lucky as it screamed and collapsed. As soon as the explosion was done, bright white fluid coated the walls thickly, smelling strongly of petrol. Severus conjured up a vial and enclosed some of the potion in it. It would do his mind good for him to figure out what he had brewed.

Stepping through the white goop, he tapped the prone house elf on the shoulder. It was out cold. "_Scourgio._" The room was clean, and Severus turned back to the house elf. _"Ennervate_."

The house elf opened her eyes (at least Severus thought it was a she) and green cat eyes blinked up at Severus before she opened her mouth to scream loudly and shrilly. It was a girl, all right.

Severus covered her mouth and said softly, frown on his face, "What are you screaming about?" He wasn't in the mood to deal with hormonal house elves!!!

"Who _are_ you?"

He blinked. "Severus Snape, you stupid elf!"

She wrinkled a pointed nose at him, narrowing her eyes and sneering. This was not typical house elf behavior. "Severus Snape? You've got to be kidding me. He's a character from a book! And I'm not stupid, and I am most certainly NOT an elf!"

Severus stood.

"Why am I so short?"

He rolled his eyes. "You're a house elf, you idiot. Did you hit your head?"

She blinked, and turned a surprisingly human face toward Severus. "What do you _mean_ I'm an-" She caught sight of her surroundings. "Oh. My. God."

Her eyes rolled up into her head, and she fainted. Groaning, Severus hefted the again-prone elf into his arms and set off down the corridor. Why him?

_A/N: Harro. I have come from a long and lengthy break from the fanfiction world, and am now back and much more experienced. I took high-school literary classes, and I figure I'm an average writer now. I might still stink, but anyway. I'm holding off my Lord of the Rings fics (See my bio) until I get the extended versions for Christmas, which will inspire me considerably. Thank you if you read this, and thank you bunches and lots if you review._

_See that lil lavender button? Yeah, down there, in the bottom left corner. Press it. You know you want to. puppy dog eyes PLEASE?!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Summary: Severus Snape has an accident in the potions classroom right before classes start in Harry Potter's sixth year, and an unfortunate house elf is hit. Thankfully, Severus is okay…but…the house elf has a predicament. It's soul is residing inside of a patch of mold, and someone else's soul is residing in her body. Not a typical self-insertion, NOT a Mary-Sue. Please R&R!!!_

To say Albus Dumbledore was quite peeved at the realization he did _not_ know thata potion had exploded resulting in a house elf with memory problems was an understatement. He was furious. And there was only an hour till the feast! His eyes opened again, and he rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Severus. Are you sure?"

Severus nodded, briskly pushing a loose lock of black hair behind his ear. "She didn't know where she was, what she was doing, or who I was."

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, was about to lose his temper for the first time this year. His slender fingers migrated to his temples as his headache increased tenfold. Blue eyes found black "Where is she?"

Severus lifted an eyebrow. "Headmaster, shouldn't you-"

"Hospital wing. Silly me…" He pushed himself up, bones creaking irritatingly. "To the hospital wing…" He was tempted to lift his deep blue robes up to around his knees, shriek like a girl, and run down the 'up' stairs that led to his office while yodeling something along the lines of "Re-ti-er-ment yoohoo yoohoo!"

But he didn't. He lifted his robes to his ankles, sighed, and said, "Come along Severus." Severus followed obediently, albeit grudgingly. He knew Severus hated orders, which was why he gave them so frequently when he really could just request things. He gracefully descended the stairs, Severus following noiselessly behind.

After five minutes of complete silence, they reached the Hospital Wing doors. "Omecay niay."

His Potions Master gave him a look that could melt steel. But Albus was reinforced steel and would not melt so easily. Following close behind the irate and now irritated professor, Albus migrated to the only bed with shut curtains. Singing was heard from inside.

"67 barrels of crack by the wall, 67 barrels of crack, gulp one down, pass it around, 66 barrels of crack by the wall! 66 barrels of crack by the wall-" The voice stopped when Severus flung open the curtains. Albus glimpsed green cat-eyes then a gaping mouth as the elf screamed. "I could have been _naked_!! Better luck next time, dear. Whozzat?"

Severus turned to him, eye twitching with a life of it's own. Albus felt his lips form a smile, and he straightened his hat. "Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of this school."

The house elf slowly emerged from the blankets, and Albus noticed she was wearing a hospital robe. He raised an eyebrow at the bustling Mediwitch, and said softly "She has clothing, Poppy?"

Poppy, who was picking up random potions off of shelves and reorganizing things with the air of someone ailed by obsessive compulsive disorder replied, "Oh, she's not a house elf."

Albus frowned, and the "house elf" nodded in agreement, her ears flapping comically. "Young lady, do you care to explain?"

Now that he thought about it, the house elf did look more human than normal, not counting the glowing green cat eyes. Her nose was a bit shorter than normal for a house elf, and pointy, and her mouth was tiny with plump lips. Her ears were long and pointed, and she had short brown hair that stopped an inch from her scalp. Skin color was pretty much normal, but a bit lighter, a more milk chocolate than dark chocolate. Of course, Albus always had to bring up candies some time. Better now than later, right?

He brought himself out of his reverie to hear her say in a high pitched, squeaky voice, "I don't know how I got here, all I remember is tripping and falling on my face, then I woke up and I was in a dungeon."

Rubbing his temples, Albus spoke again, his patience thinning. "Were you a house elf before this, or not?"

She blinked. "Oh, no, certainly not! I was a human! Tomorrow's my birthday, and I'm turning fifteen! Or…I was…turning…fifteen…" she trailed off, the corners of her mouth turning down in what Albus guessed was a pout. Or maybe a desolate frown…or maybe just a trick of his imagination. Her mouth was much too tiny to tell.

Severus stepped up behind Albus, immediately reminding him that he was there. "Headmaster…there is a half-hour till the feast. What will we do with her?"

Albus frowned deeply, and dug his fingers into his temples with feverish vigor. Ach, the headache… "We will keep her in here until time comes more freely, and I am able to question her further and with greater specifics."

Nodding, Severus whirled around and stormed back to his dungeon room.

"Good night, Severus."

The door slammed shut.

It was going to be an interesting year.

"Welcome, welcome, to another year at Hogwarts. I have a few words and warnings to dish out before our brains become too befuddled with good food and drink."

Minerva McGonagall watched her beloved Headmaster give yet another speech. She always wondered how he so easily spoke, so fluently and without practice. She had to practice her speech for the first years at least three times before she actually met them. And to think she'd been doing this for thirty years…

"First, I'd like to tell all of the first years that the Forbidden Forest at the edge of the grounds is, as the name suggests, Forbidden. Secondly, I'd like none of you to leave the immediate vicinity of the castle without a group of friends or an escort, as most of you well know, the Dark Lord Voldemort" There were assorted gasps, and someone at the Hufflepuff table fainted. "has indeed returned, and we have gained information" Minerva turned her eyes to Severus, who was watching the children with a mask of indifference only he could pull off. "that he is quite ready to kidnap children as hostages. Do not be afraid, for as long as we are inside of Hogwarts he cannot reach us. Thirdly, I must warn you all that if you eat too much you will, eventually, pass out halfway to your dormitory. So eat as much as possible, just don't eat more than necessary!"

With a clap of his hands, food appeared on the tables. The golden platters and goblets in front of the teachers filled and empty golden dishes were placed directly in front of them. The house elves outdid themselves again. Scooping up some of the mashed potatoes, broccoli and meat piesMinerva filled her plate with an even amount of food. Flitwick, who sat next to her, said in a shrill voice not unlike a house elf's, "Still on that diet, Minerva?"

It was times like these when Minerva wondered if Ravenclaws were really all what they were cracked up to be. Talk about tactless, that comment. "No, Professor." Steely blue eyes turned on Flitwick, and she tapped her hat to keep it straight as it rested on her thick black hair. "I've just become accustomed to eating this much and if I eat any more I will most likely be sick." She turned back to her meal.

Professor Sinistra was to the right of Flitwick, and she said jovially, her blonde curls bouncing around her heart-shaped face, "Why do you never let your hair down, Minerva?"

It was the same question every year. Was it her fault if she did not like her hair hanging to her tailbone and flying every-which-way? Tactfully ignoring that comment, she turned to Dumbledore and said, "How is Harry?"

With a point of his finger, Dumbledore directed her attention to a laughing boy with round glasses and twinkling green eyes. His black hair had grown to an absurd length, but it was oddly fetching on him. It framed his face like his glasses framed his eyes, and flipped up and out and everywhere at the bottom, which was around his chin. He had grown a little, but was still that scrawny seeker she knew and, well...loved.

Minerva finished her food and looked around the Great Hall. The sky was a clear black with stars shining like diamonds. Bringing her eyes to the Slytherin table, she saw something that surprised her. Draco Malfoy, who usually sucked up attention like a dry sponge, was sitting alone, hunched over in his chair, and poking his food around desolately. She shrugged. Must be a new attention tactic, as around six girls were trying to talk to him.

At the Hufflepuff table, the children laughed, talked, and jovially greeted their friends. Fellowship like that was not found in such quantity in any other house but Hufflepuff.

At the Ravenclaw table quite a few intellectual conversations were taking place. She smiled, thinking "_Aw, look at the smart kids plot._"

The Gryffindor table was by far the most raucous of the lot, yelling across the table, greeting old friends, telling loud (and most often crude) jokes, and just being loud in general. Ah, that was her old house, and the one she was head of.

Smiling to herself, Minerva picked up one solitary éclair, placed it in her dish, cut it into quarters, and served herself the luscious treat.

Oh, dear. Now she had gone and reminded herself of Lucius Malfoy. She dropped her éclair and placed her index finger between her eyes, mourning at her sudden loss of appetite. She glanced back at the heir of the Malfoy fortune and scowled. She did not like that boy, and wasn't going to pretend to.

Malfoy lifted his gaze to meet hers, as it had previously rested on an interesting part of the white tablecloth, and he smirked nastily. And yet somehow, he remained dead sexy. Whoa…did she just think that?! But another part of her mind nagged at her, "_He's just like Lucius. Sexy to the core._"

Obviously, various other Slytherin girls thought so, because sighs and swoons echoed across the table. One, Pansy Parkinson she believed, had the stupidity to faint.

Stupid children. Too sexy, and they knew it.

She didn't know what was worse; those who were sexy and knew it, or those who weren't and thought they were.

Flitwick tried to begin a conversation with her, leaning too close for comfort.

The latter.

_A/N: AHAH! Two chapters already…I'm trying to get inspiration for "Serpentine Angel" but it's not coming to me…If ANYONE has ANY ideas…please enlighten me. This story, however, I'm not jumping into headfirst. I have a general idea of what the plot is, and I'm hoping it's a good plot. I know for sure it's going to fluctuate daily. I can never make up my mind… :D I love you all. Oh, and by the way, the thing about Malfoy...I couldn't resist. _

_Please review! And…er…read, but it's sorta too late for that._

_Next Chapter:_

_"Oh, but, Hermione, you have to understand! Gryffindor boys are handsome, yes, but only Slytherins are sexy! Sirius Black, like my mother said, was an exception to the rule."--Pavarti Patil_


End file.
